OPERA
Chesapeake Impressions
Opera pleasures in Washington and Baltimore
BY DAVID SHENGOLD
Hearing vocal performances from other
cities — and in other cities — can
at times complement and contextualize
one’s experience of our local opera
season.
Washington’s Opera Lafayette, which has
become a regular visitor to New York, provided
a highly enjoyable performance of Beethoven’s
“Leonore,” the original version of his “Fidelio,”
on March 2 at Hunter’s Kaye Playhouse. The
last major airing of “Leonore” I recall hereabouts
was a concert under John Eliot Gardiner two
dozen years ago. “Fidelio” is in several ways an
improvement, but the earlier music, in places
considerably more fl orid, merits hearing. Plus
some dramatic moments differ: the lovers’ ecstatic
reunion duet, as in Mozart’s “Abduction,”
fi nds them dubious as to their survival.
Ryan Brown had some wonderful players
aboard, including Krista Bennion Feeney ( concertmaster),
John Feeney (bass), and Charles
Brink (fl ute); the brass section did better than
most period orchestras manage. Brown’s reading
was well rehearsed if sometimes lacking
in drive, particularly pre-intermission. Oriol
Tomas’ direction was clear and well blocked,
and Laurence Mongeau furnished a skeletal
but effective set and apt period costumes, the
whole well lit by Rob Siler. It did not feel like a
‘tour stop” performance in any sense.
A largely Canadian cast coped well in this
intimate venue, even when ringtones shattered
the mood. Flowing lyric-voiced Nathalie Paulin
fi elded good German and the requisite agility
in Leonore’s wickedly demanding music, her
tone only occasionally hardening at the very
top. The lean Jean-Michel Richer may be the
only visibly credible Florestan I’ve ever seen.
(Jon Vickers, James McCracken, Ben Heppner,
and other great exponents did not look like
prisoners starved for two years.) Richer’s tone
isn’t notably airy or bright but he sang musically
and forthrightly, including the third act
aria as plausibly reconstructed by Will Crutchfi
eld. Persuasively lean on prison fare, as well,
Stephen Hegedus (Rocco) and Matthew Scollin
(Pizarro with a Hitler mustache that he all but
twirled) sang with focus and good line. Pascale
Beaudin’s reedy, soubrette Marcelline sported a
Louise Brooks bob and duetted well with Paulin.
Alexandre Sylvestre brought a substantial
sound to Don Fernando, the deus ex machinawho
saves whistle-blower Florestan from a
gross abuse of power. A thoroughly enjoyable
performance: a rarity these days.
In DC itself, the Washington National Opera
LOUIS FORGET
Tenor Jean-Michel Richer visually proved a convincing Florestan
and sang musically and forthrightly in Opera Lafayette’s production
of Beethoven’s “Leonore.”
opened a new “Don Giovanni”February
29 that was inevitably infl ected by recent #Me-
Too developments involving Harvey Weinstein
and (former WNO artistic director) Plácido
Domingo. E. Loren Meeker’s production made
some valid and effective points, though — as
often happens with this opera — momentum
stalled in Act Two. The frequent deployment
of white-clad victims of Giovanni simply didn’t
work and too often drew focus from the principals.
Erhard Rom’s set oddly blended disparate
abstract elements, but the costumes recycled
from an old Ponnelle production provided some
context. The evening — which started with a
standing ovation for opera lover Justice RBG
— ended with the three sopranos onstage celebrating
their joint victory over their dangerous
abuser.
Evan Rogister generally steered a reasonable
course, with convincing decorations by his
very solid cast, but Mozart’s demanding music
exposed the company’s orchestra as being not
quite top drawer. Ryan McKinny, looking duly
sexy as Giovanni, performed professionally but
without consistent tonal focus; to sing softly
he went off breath support (lots of Wagner may
have taken some toll on his voice’s steadiness).
It seemed a cheap out for Meeker to portray
Giovanni’s misdeeds as issuing so clearly from
his frat-boy drunkenness, excluding any particular
philosophical dimension. Kyle Ketelsen
again showed himself a superb Leporello, with
resonant yet ever-fl owing tone and a great balance
of comedy and verbal urgency.
Rising soprano Vanessa Vasquez sang Anna
— here welcomely unblamed for her assault by
Giovanni — with gorgeous tone and seeming
technical ease. A sympathetic Elvira not afraid
to appear over-the-top, Keri Alkema vocalized
her diffi cult music very well indeed, though
words were stinted. Alek Shrader (Ottavio) gave
a typically stylish, forthrightly acted interpretation
but his upper register grows more constricted
by the year. “Il mio tesoro” landed on
the cutting room fl oor — and not because this
was in any sense the opera’s “Vienna” revision.
Lively, with a soubrette instrument that carries,
Vanessa Becerra served Zerlina well, opposite
a musically unformed Masetto. No bel cantist,
Peter Volpe presented the Commendattore effectively.
The next afternoon I saw my fi rst performance
by Baltimore Concert Opera, which
has been offering some impressive piano-accompanied
repertory in a splendid if somewhat
airless Gilded Age ballroom. Donizetti’s “Anna
Bolena” benefi tted from several veterans of Will
Crutchfi eld’s Teatro Nuovo bel canto ‘fi nishing
school,” including the deft conductor, Rachelle
Jonck. Some cuts — mainly choral, or second
verses — inevitably prevailed.
My jaw only dropped once, when tenor Derrek
Stark — not much of a platform actor as
the dim-witted Percy, but certainly stylistically
knowing and vocally adequate to the high-lying
part crafted for the great Rubini — simply left
the stage with his fi nal cabaletta (“Nel veder la
tua costanza”) unsung. Maybe prudent, as with
Shrader, but a shock.
Also, the remarkably gifted soprano Meghan
Kasanders, vocally sumptuous if sometimes
lacking in “la parola scenica” — meaningful
infl ection of text — in the marathon title role,
began her Mad Scene asking why the chorus
of ladies-in-waiting was crying, despite their
lament having been cut. But she did much
highly impressive singing and embodied Anna’s
wounded dignity.
The real standout for vocalism and textual
delivery was fi ery, wide-ranging mezzo Hannah
Ludwig as Giovanna Seymour. Hans Tashjian
— surely the tallest, thinnest Henry VIII ever
depicted — knows his bel canto style but his
elegant bass lost focus in topmost phrases. Noragh
Devlin, in a pantsuit but with pendant earrings
(!) as the page boy Smeton, showed good
vocal material though not completely knit together
as to registers.
Withal, the audience got a highly capable traversal
of this wonderful score, a rare event in
regional theaters. Worth keeping an eye out for
future BCO programming: it’s less than three
hours from Penn Station.
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